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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27317218">Die Waldkatze, or, If you can't make your own love, store-bought is fine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/1001paperboxes/pseuds/C-chan'>C-chan (1001paperboxes)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Gen, Hopeful Ending</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:48:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,625</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27317218</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/1001paperboxes/pseuds/C-chan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation to Die Waldhexe, in which a happier ending is possible once the darkest part comes to an end.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Frumpkin &amp; Caleb Widogast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Fic In A Box</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Die Waldkatze, or, If you can't make your own love, store-bought is fine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalEclipse/gifts">EternalEclipse</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This was for the best. </p><p>That's what the boy thought as he heard the girl cry, and the other boy whimper, and the hole where his heart once was pounded and thrummed with pain, and he felt nothing.</p><p>Although they were not whole, they were all alive. Even if the Waldhexe's words were ominous, they could persevere.</p><p>The trees would bear fruit. The wheat would grow.</p><p>And they were still able to go home.</p><hr/><p>They cleaned themselves up as best they could; washing away the blood, straightening up their clothing. But there was no way of pretending that nothing was wrong. Not with one eye missing, or a gashed and misshapen head, or a hole where a heart once was.</p><p>Still, they tried as best they could. They returned holding their heads high despite the pain, wearing smiles that didn't quite fit as they spoke of a better tomorrow, of thriving crops and a prospering kingdom.</p><p>Their parents were proud of their sacrifice. They said it every day, telling their friends of the promised good fortune. They said it every night, stroking their children's hair and singing sweet songs as they went to sleep. But the boy heard his mother's cries and his father's shouts. He heard the whispers of curses swelling with every passing day, and watched as strangers gave him a wide berth, holding talismans and reciting prayers under their breaths.</p><p>Perhaps it had been for the best. The kingdom would flourish, and all would benefit from its riches. </p><p>But for the children, for their families, it was the beginning of the end.</p><hr/><p>The boy tried to say his prayers that night, and found that he couldn't. The words were locked out of reach, unable to reach his lips, unable to be uttered sincerely.</p><p>He was no longer a child of the light. </p><p>He was a disgrace to the Dawnfather. </p><p>He was a traitor to his parents.</p><p>He was a cursed being, damned by his own curiosity.</p><p>And he no longer belonged.</p><hr/><p>Perhaps it would have been better if one of them had been eaten whole.</p><p>He dreamed that night of what it would have been like if it had been him. If the other two had returned, happy and safe, the Waldhexe's hunger fully satiated by his sacrifice. </p><p>His parents would have been in despair for having lost their son, but they would have known their child died bravely, rather than been forced to live with the shame of a cursed child. </p><p>Perhaps there would have been whispers, but only of the poor child who had died, and of his parents, how they must feel. </p><p>Perhaps he would have been missed, but he would have been a hero; not a misshapen thing no longer capable of joy, bringing naught but shame upon his family and village.</p><p>He woke in the morning, and knew what he must do.</p><hr/><p>It was easy, slipping away. Far easier, perhaps, than it should have been.</p><p>He left no note, but left the fire burning as he said his silent goodbyes to his parents and headed out back to the outskirts of town, away from the light, and into the woods.</p><hr/><p>The woods were dark. As scary as the forest had seemed when the three went in together, full of curiosity and care, the danger seemed to increase tenfold as the boy walked in alone. </p><p>But even as the boy looked around, stopping at every movement, startling at every sound, he felt nothing. He had no heart to care.</p><p>"Waldhexe, oh Waldhexe," he cried. "Come, feast upon my flesh. Take the rest of me. For I cannot live this cursed life without a heart. I would rather die to bring further prosperity and have my broken body be whole again within you."</p><p>But the Waldhexe did not come. Her hunger was already sated, and she would need not eat again for many years.</p><p>And so the boy continued traveling on, tears streaming down his face as he cried out for someone, for something, to come and end his miserable, wretched existence. He cried until he could cry no more, and wandered until his feet could go no further. And then he laid against the roots of an old, gnarled tree and let himself be taken by sleep.</p><hr/><p>The boy was not alone when he awoke.</p><p>There was something warm against his head, a small, strange, and yet insistent sound like music in his ears.</p><p>Cracking his eyes open, his eyes settled upon a cat: brown and striped and spotted, sleeping with a peace that the boy could no longer imagine.</p><p>Perhaps he had taken the cat’s spot and it was just now settling in for a day of sleep. Perhaps it was basking in the extra warmth of his body, not knowing that the boy was a cursed and wretched creature.</p><p>The boy stood, pausing only long enough to pet the cat’s soft fur once, twice, thrice, and then he headed on his way.</p><hr/><p>The boy’s stomach was growling. </p><p>He had thought to bring no food with him. He had thought that there would be no need.</p><p>But the Waldhexe had not eaten him. He was still alive. And though he was brave enough to offer himself as a sacrifice, he was neither brave nor cowardly enough to wrest his own life away.</p><p>But perhaps, he thought, through hunger it might become a nonissue.</p><p>Just then, a familiar strange sound reached his ears once more, and the boy looked down to see a cat brushing against his legs, winding his way between them. It may have been the same cat. The boy was not sure.</p><p>The cat took two steps forward, and turned around and mewled, as if beckoning the boy to follow. The boy did as he was told, and the cat led the way, chirping and trilling until they came to a  river with fish swimming within, and bushes bearing plump, juicy berries near the shore. </p><p>The boy fashioned a spear from a nearby fallen branch, and the cat used its claws, and together they feasted.</p><hr/><p>And so it began. The cat would show the boy all the good places in the forest: where there was soft earth to lie on, where there was good food to eat. The cat would sing and chirp and purr, and listen when the boy needed to talk. They bathed together. They walked together. And the cat would lie on him as they slept, allowing them to share in each other's warmth and comfort through the woods' dark nights.</p><p>When the boy wandered off, sure he was being a burden, the cat would find him and rub against his legs with all the love in the world.</p><p>When the boy had a nightmare, the cat would nuzzle him awake, and purr and purr until there was nothing left to fear.</p><p>Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. The boy’s hair, once cropped short, became long and shabby. His clothes, once new and pristine, became well-worn. </p><p>The hole was still there, his heart still forever gone, but perhaps the cat's fur had shed where it had once been, shaping something else within it.</p><p>And one day, though he never thought he would again, the boy found himself smiling.</p><hr/><hr/><p>"What are you writing?" Jester asked, her sharp nails digging into his arms as she peered over Caleb's shoulder at the book he'd been writing in.</p><p>"Nothing," he answered quickly.</p><p>"It doesn't look like nothing," Jester replied. "When I write nothing, it's usually just a random assortment of dots and circles and squiggly lines… which I guess letters kind of are too, but those were definitely actual words, and not just gibberish with or without real letters. So you must have been making something, right?"</p><p>Caleb sighed. Jester was perceptive as always.</p><p>"Nothing of import, anyway. A meditation on <em>Die Waldhexe.</em> That is all."</p><p>Jester frowned. "I mean, you looked so serious and all writing it, like you were going to cry…"</p><p>"It is a very dear story to me."</p><p>"Ah. Okay. Well, I got the kitties to teach me how to make jelly doughnuts, and we made a bunch and I wanted you to know, but I didn't want to actually bring you any in case you didn't want icing sugar all over your books. Because I know my mother always hated when anything got on her dresses, and your books are about as important to you as those dresses were to her, and it's not even a fun thing like putting a dick in the margin, and there are, like, a <em>lot</em> of doughnuts, so you know...."</p><p>"I understand," Caleb cut in. "And thank you. I'll finish up, and I will come shortly."</p><p>Seemingly pleased, Jester skipped out of the library and called "auf!" probably heading off to bother some more of the Nein so they could all gather for doughnuts.</p><p>Meanwhile, Caleb reached down, and pet Frumpkin where the cat laid, sleeping at his feet.</p><p>"Thank you, my friend," he murmured. "Without you, I do not know if I could have even started down this journey."</p><p>Frumpkin trilled a questioning noise, raising his head just enough to look at Caleb, before laying his head down again; falling asleep seemingly instantly.</p><p>He checked the page; the ink was dry enough. And so he closed the book, slipped it back in his holster, and set out towards the kitchen, and whatever chaotic episode it would bring, full of love that perhaps still filled him with guilt and confusion, but that he knew was freely and stubbornly given nonetheless.</p><p>Perhaps the curse wasn't quite lifted. Perhaps it never would be. But in moments like this, it was hard to miss the hope.</p>
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